


Fate of the Miraculous

by Alya29, CeceTA, JadeJem, pyxistar



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Action, Adrien Agreste/Ladybug Fluff, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Chat Noir/Ladybug Fluff, Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Dorks in Love, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Fluff, Friendship/Love, LadyNoir - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Marichat, Miraculous Ladybug - Freeform, Miraculous Ladybug AU, New Take on Miraculous Ladybug, Plot, Plot Devices, Plot Twist, Romance, Slow Burn, adrienette - Freeform, ladrien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 20:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18902473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alya29/pseuds/Alya29, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeceTA/pseuds/CeceTA, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeJem/pseuds/JadeJem, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyxistar/pseuds/pyxistar
Summary: Same characters, different story.There was something in her; something pressing against Marinette like a weight getting heavier with every passing beat; something stirring; something waking up; something coming to life.She opened the box.





	Fate of the Miraculous

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Avid Miraculous Fans! 
> 
> Please keep in mind that this entire project is loosely based around Miraculous Ladybug, but it’s a fanfiction “What-If” AU that touches on many fan concepts. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Thomas Astruc and ZAG

Marinette forced her legs to carry her body up the short flight of stairs leading up to her bedroom. She shoved the trapdoor open, ignoring the resounding _thunk_ of the heavy wood hitting the floor.

Her bag slid off of her shoulder, and she tossed it at the chaise lounge stretching the far side of her room. She followed the bag in quick succession after kicking her shoes off, her face finding the pillow on her chaise as she fell straight down onto the cushion.

Marinette’s elbow rammed into her bag, and down it went. She was prepared to ignore it after initially startling in surprise, but the sound of something hollow and wooden skittering across the floor gave her cause to look up with a frown.

There, a good ten feet away, rested a small, black, hexagonal box.

Marinette pushed herself off of the chaise, swinging around into a sitting position as she stared at it from a safe distance. What was it? How had it gotten into her bag? Had she accidentally taken it?

Too curious to stay away for much longer, she stood up and slowly made her way over to it. As she got closer, she noticed that the box was decorated with red carvings in a unique pattern (Chinese inscriptions?).

She stooped down to her knees and gently picked it up, turning it over in her hands with a speculative hum.

“What are you?” she asked it, not expecting an answer, but inquiring anyway.

She had the intention to put it back in her bag and ask around about it the following day at school, but something about the box made her hesitate,

It almost felt like it was pulsing in her hand—beating like a heart.

But that was crazy because boxes were inanimate objects, and oh, gosh, Marinette was killing her brain cells thinking like this. It wasn’t hers, and that was that.

…Would it hurt to peek?

She didn’t know, but her morals gave, and she allowed herself to crack it open, just for a quick look—

Blinding light shot out in every direction, and Marinette dropped the box with a shout of protest, shielding her eyes. Wind rushed and whipped at her face and hair, and she screwed her eyes shut with another yell as she turned away.

And, all at once, it was gone, leaving Marinette windswept and shaken.

She slowly lowered her arms and peeked at the box through her lashes before determining that it was no longer trying to kill her eyes. Marinette blinked and stared down at the box. A pair of dark earrings lined in gold were burrowed into a velvet cushion. Her mouth fell open in wonder; they were so plain, but something about them felt too beautiful for comprehension.

Something moved in her peripheral. Her head snapped to the side, and that’s when she was met by a pair of large, doe-like eyes that glimmered like sapphires.

_A pair of eyes belonging to a red, floating rat._

Marinette _screamed_.

Her rear made hard contact with the floor as she scrambled away from the creature, who was staring at Marinette as if she’d been expecting this.

“Don’t freak out.”

Marinette groped her desk for the jar she knew was resting on it and threw herself at the thing, effectively trapping it in the glass. She hurriedly backed away until she ran into the wall.

The red thing sighed in exasperation (hah! not so fast). “Really?” it asked before—

_Before phasing through the glass and flying at her._

Marinette’s mouth opened with the intention to scream again, but the creature was pressing its—its— _nub arms_  against her lips to—to what? To shut her up so she could be _eaten_?

“I said _don’t_ freak out, not scream like a maniac,” the thing huffed indignantly, rolling its large eyes. Its voice was high-pitched and almost melodic, and the innocence of it eased Marinette’s nerves by a small fraction.

Marinette’s breathing slowed from heavy panting to calm inhales and exhales, and the creature—Marinette assumed it was female—raised its eyebrows (well, where the eyebrows would be if she had any).

“Will you scream if I let go?”

Marinette hesitantly shook her head.

The (it couldn’t be a rat, could it?) thing released her and slowly drifted (in _mid-air_ ) back to a safe distance.

Marinette stared.

“My name is Tikki, and I’m a kwami,” she said at last, finally seeming confident enough in the knowledge that Marinette wasn’t going to scream.

Tikki waited for a moment, as if expecting a response of some sort, before continuing. “My job is to reside in your earrings when you say, ‘Tikki, spots on!’ I fuel the magic that helps you turn into a superhero.”

Marinette held her hand up, her thoughts tripping over themselves. “A—a _what_?”

“A superhero,” Tikki repeated unabashedly. “But it will only work if you wear the earrings and never remove them.”

“You want me to be a superhero?” Marinette queried numbly, lowering her hand as she stared at a spot on the wall. “You want me to be a superhero.” Her gaze found Tikki again, and she smiled pathetically. “I don’t remember applying for this job.”

Tikki bore a look of contemplation for a long minute. Marinette scratched her arm uncomfortably, looking away from the kwami with a nervous titter. “I’m sorry, Tikki. I just don’t think I’m right for the job. You must have made a mistake.”

Marinette tried not to feel dejected as she avoided Tikki’s piercing eyes; the truth was, she was too average to be a superhero. The life she led now—that of a normal girl—was what she was meant for. Nothing more, nothing less. She had aspirations, of course, but she was too passive to completely commit to them the way she wanted to. She wondered if that would ever change.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, and the tone of her voice struck a chord in Marinette. She met Tikki’s gaze, where a blue flame flickered passionately. “I did not Choose you; a wise man who has guarded the Miraculous for decades did. I am here to serve you and your expedition in serving Paris. The Guardian’s judgement is firm and true—there was a reason you were selected to lead this life.

“It is a great responsibility, so I could understand you being afraid of taking on the burden. But do not doubt your own ability. I can see it in your eyes, Marinette—you want something greater for yourself. There is a fighter in you, and it is your job to release her. You are destined for this; believe in yourself.”

Marinette’s heart was racing. Tikki’s words echoed in her head.

_Do not doubt your own ability._

_You want something greater for yourself._

_You are destined for this._

_Believe in yourself._

Could she?

Doubt swelled up within her; no, she realized, she couldn’t be a superhero. She wouldn’t even know where to start.

“I’m sorry, Tikki,” she said softly, shattering their eye contact. “I think there’s someone better out there.”

“Wait, Marinette—”

Marinette picked up the box and, with a teary, self-deprecating smile, shut it.

When she turned around, Tikki was gone.

She cried for longer than she’d care to admit.

***   *   ***

The school day felt abnormally long.

Some new kid had decided it’d be funny to stick gum to Marinette’s seat, and so she’d kindly delivered a swift kick to his butt as he was kneeled in front of her seat and told him to leave her alone. He’d seemed apologetic, but Marinette’s mood couldn’t handle anything further, so she ignored him.

Her mind was drawn to Tikki like metal to a magnet. Every time she closed her eyes, even just to blink, Tikki was there, eyes shining with encouragement.

And Marinette had turned her back on Tikki and said no.

She spent her lunch break in the bathroom, much to the worry of her new friend, Alya.

She just wanted the day to be over.

***   *   ***

“Hey.”

Marinette stiffened before turning away from the source of the voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand fall back to his side.

“I’m Adrien,” he tried again, and he almost sounded genuine.

“And I’m not interested,” Marinette stated curtly, eyes on the rain splashing against the pavement. She considered making a run for it (her house was only across the street, after all), but ultimately decided that she didn’t want her bag to be soaked through; the box risked taking damage, and Marinette felt that it was too precious to allow being marred.

The swoop of an umbrella opening to her right drew Marinette’s attention for a moment. Adrien stepped out into the rain, umbrella poised over him. He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“I’ve… never been to public school,” he said softly, his head inclining to the side as his sheepish gaze found the floor. “I’ve never really had many friends. A lot of it is… new to me.” His eyes met hers, and they looked radioactive against the dim sky.

Marinette didn’t have the might to say anything in response.

“I’m sorry it looked like I was trying to put gum on your seat,” Adrien continued awkwardly, shifting his weight. “I was actually trying to get it off, but I can see how that would look bad.”

Marinette’s mouth went dry as she realized her mistake.

“Everyone talks so fondly about you, and I’d like to be friends.” His umbrella was suddenly over her head as he extended his hand toward her. He smiled. “Do you think that could happen?”

The sky rumbled angrily overhead as Marinette’s fingers brushed his and she took the umbrella. Her breath rushed out of her in surprise upon the contact.

“I…yeah. Yeah, I’d like to be friends,” she said softly, heart beating a little faster than she remembered it ever doing. She felt her cheeks flush with warmth, and she saw it lightly mirrored in Adrien’s complexion as he stood in the rain.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

Marinette returned the smile with an embarrassed one of her own. “Yeah. I’m sorry. You know, for, uh, kicking you.”

Adrien chuckled, eyes gleaming. “If I was going to have anyone kick my ass, it’d have to be you.” And with that, he turned and went on his way.

Marinette watched him step into his car with a final wave, and she waved back numbly. It was only when his car was out of sight that she shook her head.

What had just happened?

The short trek home left Marinette alone with her thoughts as her mind drifted from Adrien back to the box. Her mind was telling her she couldn’t, but her heart…

Her heart was aching with loss.

“How was school, honey?” Sabine called from the back of the boulangerie upon hearing Marinette’s entrance.

“Good,” Marinette responded distractedly, making a beeline for the staircase leading up to her complex.

If Sabine followed up with another question, it fell on deaf ears.

Marinette dug through her bag as she ascended the stairs to her bedroom, pulling out the black hexagonal box and tossing her bag aside. Her bottom miraculously found her chaise, her eyes never leaving the box. It thrummed like a livewire in her fingers, humming with power and possibility.

Marinette’s heart pounded a steady rhythm in her chest as she stared down at the single thing that could change everything she knew.

The question was, did she _want it_  to change everything she knew?

There was something in her; something pressing against her like a weight getting heavier every passing beat; something stirring; something waking up; something coming to life.

She opened the box.


End file.
